Boys of Summer
by Your Iron Lung
Summary: He can't listen to that song anymore. He has to turn it off when it comes over the radio, as it makes him sad in ways he never thought a song would be able to. He just can't afford to look back anymore. Pointless Lee/Ves friendship drabble.


_'Out on the road today I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac; a little voice inside my head said "Don't look back, you can never look back."'_

"I never understood that line." Veser mused as he lay back on Lee's bed staring up at the ceiling.

The blonde man he was addressing frowned and quirked his brow, but didn't turn from what he was working on at his desk.

"What line?"

"That one about the Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. Why's that such a big deal?"

Lee lay his pen aside as a small smile creased his face, his mind reminiscing of days before Veser came about. He himself been about Vesers age when the song had been released, and he could remember all the good times that he'd come to associate with it.

"Don't worry about it, it was before your time."

"Naw dude, I wanna know. What about that would be like, worth singing about? The hell's a Deadhead anyway?"

"Well," Lee began, sitting back in his swivel chair to face Veser. "Deadheads were what they called those people who followed the Grateful Dead around."

"The who?"

"Uh, no; that's a different group." Veser sat up to give him a 'get serious' look before flumping back down as Lee chuckled. "Haha, the Grateful Dead were the epitome of hippy back in the day; they toured all over the US and played concerts all the time."

"So?"

"So," Lee continued, "You know how people today are so uptight about not letting people record live shows and things? Well, to put it bluntly, the Grateful Dead didn't give a fuck. They played to play and didn't care who came as long as they enjoyed the music. They'd let you bootleg their performances, things bands today probably wouldn't be so keen about. Not to mention they kind of encouraged drug usage."

"That's pretty cool." Veser said, twirling his foot in the air absently. "So uh, again, why's a Deadhead sticker such a big deal?"

"Well, Cadillacs are nice cars worth a pretty penny, aren't they?"

Veser shrugged. "I guess so."

"C'mon, put two and two together; I know you can get this."

The teen frowned to himself as he traced out patterns in the ceilings molding with his eyes, trying to make a connection but coming up with nothing.

"Dude, I don't know; just tell me already."

"Alright, well, owning a Cadillac goes against the very nature of being a Deadhead. Part of what the Grateful Dead were about was to not let yourself get caught up with material possessions- kinda went with being a hippy. And Cadillacs were expensive; most Deadheads were deadbeat hippies who could barely afford to eat."

"Oh." Veser said. They fell into silence before Veser frowned and flopped over, looking at Lee with a scowl. "So, that was why he couldn't look back, right? He saw that uh, paradox and it freaked him out?"

"In a sense." Lee said with a shrug. "It represents changing times and people growing up and moving on. The song itself is a whole big symbol of the passing of time, youth and innocence. I suppose you can interpret that as you will; a young hippie grows up and buys a Cadillac, but can't let go of his roots. Or something, I'm not too good at explaining myself."

"Oh." Veser rolled back over and played with the strings of his hoodie in thought. "That's sad."

"I guess." Lee said, turning around to get back to work, having wasted enough time procrastinating with the youth. They stayed in silence for a minute before Veser grinned.

"The Atari's rock the hell out of that song."

* * *

_'Empty lake, empty streets; the sun goes down alone. I'm drivin' by your house, though I know you're not home but I can see you-'_

He can't listen to that song anymore. He has to turn it off when it comes over the radio, or switch the station to a different channel. It makes him sad in ways he never thought a song would be able to, and he was forced to take both versions off his iPod; he just can't afford to look back anymore.


End file.
